Harry Potter and the Secret of the Pensieve
by EnchantingFairy
Summary: Harry Potter enters his sixth year at Hogwart's with mixed feelings. Although excited to return to the place he considers home, he can't help but worry about what the upcoming year holds in store for him. Also, he can't help but wonder about the REAL re


Chapter One  
  
The Birthday Present  
  
If anyone were to drive or walk by house number four on Privet Drive, they would probably pause or slow down. As most people can't help but be curious, the sight that beheld them, would certainly capture their attention. Instead of seeing the usual smiling faces of families, showing off their lawns or new car, instead sat a skinny, dark-haired, frowning boy of about 16. But it wasn't so much that he was just SITTING there, it was the manner about him. Unhappy people just didn't flaunt themselves around Privet Drive, and the Dursley's were known for their jolliness. Admittedly, not many people actually knew much about this boy, Harry Potter, but it wasn't for lack of trying to find out information. The only thing that Petunia and Vernon Dursley had ever let "slip" was that the boy was a common criminal, fit only for St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. So, to find the boy just sitting on the steps of number four, with no adult supervision around or shackles around his ankles, well, it left much to the curious mind.  
  
But again, Harry was not just SITTING there, he appeared to be waiting for something. His startling green eyes would search the sky before turning downcast and he would bury his face in his hands. Every so often, a tear would escape from his right eye, and he would quickly flick it away. It was the sight of this melancholy boy that would break the heart of almost any passerby. Few would find it hard to believe that the scrawny boy before them, with the messy hair and teary eyes, was a hardened criminal. No criminal would let themselves feel true pain, real anguish. They were incapable, right? And you couldn't help but want to know more about him. Wonder why he was so upset, wonder exactly what it was that he was looking or waiting for.  
  
Harry, however, seemed oblivious to all of this. The only thing that kept going through his mind, were the memories he had of Sirius Black, his godfather. The only man who had been the last, real link to his parents. The one person whom Harry'd thought would be there for him, forever. And in one, tragic evening, he was gone. And no matter what anybody said to him, Harry secretly knew that it was all his fault. If Harry had only listened to Hermione Granger when she had tried to reason with him about his hasty decision to try to find and save Sirius, none of this would have happened. Because Sirius never needed to be rescued, it was all a trap. A trick that Voldermort had played with Harry's mind, because he had been too stubborn to continue with his Occlumency lessons, to learn how to shut out Voldermort from his mind. Harry didn't care that Professor Dumbledore took the blame, that Dumbledore felt responsible for Sirius's death, blaming himself for appointing Professor Snape to teach Harry about Occlumency, rather than teach Harry, himself. Dumbledore knew that the relationship between Snape and Harry was rocky, but he had felt confident that neither person would let him down. But Dumbledore felt that he should have been more aware that human feelings, and the past, have a way of catching up with you, even when you try to fight them.  
  
Harry sighed, and once again, turned his eyes heavenward. He had been back at number four for quite some time now, and he was ready for news of something, anything. Especially since today was his birthday. But except for the owl that had delivered his Ordinary Wizarding Level scores (he had put off opening them, opting to wait until he, Hermione, and Ron Weasley were reunited), there had been no real news from anyone. As promised to Mad-Eye Moody, Harry sent them his owl, Hedwig, with an update on how he was doing, every three days. But still, no one was really telling him anything. Harry was starting to repress the same feelings he had last year. And hadn't Dumbledore apologized to Harry for leaving him in the dark? Dumbledore knew that Harry felt helpless, and needed friends and people that truly cared about him surrounding him now, more than ever. So why, Harry asked himself, was no one telling him anything?  
  
Harry knew that the real reason that no one was jumping to fetch him, was because of his guardians new attitude toward him. Harry knew that his Uncle Vernon and Cousin Dudley only barely tolerated him, to the point of forced politeness. But he noticed that there was a definite change in his Aunt Petunia. By no means was she acting motherly toward him, not disgustingly overbearing as she was with Dudley. But she was definitely kinder and spoke in softer tones with him. A couple of times, Harry had caught her staring at him, a glazed look on her face, as if remembering something. Harry knew that he didn't resemble his mum, Lily, Petunia's sister, except for his eyes. He'd seen his father, James, enough times to know that he was the spitting image of him. So he had to wonder why his aunt looked at him the way she did, so often. Other times, it would appear as though she were working up her nerve to ask him a question, or just to have a word with him. But always, Uncle Vernon or Dudley would walk into the room or do something to steal away her attention, and the moment would be gone.   
  
Harry knew that it was also because of his Aunt Petunia that he finally had a decent wardrobe. He had overheard her telling Uncle Vernon that the neighbors are starting to talk about Harry's ill-fitting clothes. How they look ridiculous on him and they're so out of style. Vernon, we don't want people to think that we're BENEATH them, not in the same class. Perhaps we should reconsider our previous decision to let him wear Duddykins' old clothing and buy Harry something that's more his style." Harry heard Uncle Vernon put up a bit of a protest but gave in after Aunt Petunia pointed out that "Harry doesn't have the same manly physique as our Duddy. He's so skinny and scrawny. We wouldn't want to give people the wrong impression about our Duddy." Uncle Vernon then had admitted that she was quite right, and they took Harry shopping the very next day.   
  
Harry didn't care about brand name clothing, much to his Uncle Vernon's relief. Just the idea that he would have clothes that fit him, that complimented his style, rather than made a comedic performance of it, well, he couldn't contain his excitement. Dudley had been very upset about the shopping spree and much to Aunt Petunia's dismay, had accused his parents of caring for Harry more. Of course, this meant new clothes for Dudley as well, but Dudley let it be known that this was not enough. Finally, after many tears on Aunt Petunia's part, and many outbursts from Uncle Vernon and Dudley, the three of them came home one day with a brand new car for Dudley. Harry found that to be a big surprise, considering that Dudley had yet to pass his driver's examination. But Uncle Vernon boasted that now that Dudley had a car to practice with, he'd pass the test in no time at all.  
  
Harry knew that Dudley was bragging to all his friends that his parents thought he was so incredibly wonderful that they surprised him with the new car. But he also knew that Dudley was no where near passing his examination. He'd already failed the written test three times, and had yet to take the driving test. But that didn't stop Dudley from taking his car out as often as he could. As long as he had a friend with him that was a licensed driver (and Harry couldn't count on his fingers how many friends Dudley suddenly had, now that he had a brand new car) he was allowed to go wherever he pleased. Harry honestly didn't care what Dudley did, as long as it didn't involve bothering Harry.  
  
Realizing that the sky was still owl-less, and very well probably would remain so, Harry stood up, sighing loudly. He turned around and reached for the doorknob when the door swung open. "What are you doing out on the steps, boy?" Uncle Vernon barked.  
  
"Nothing, just sitting here. It was quiet." Harry mumbled, avoiding his uncle's eyes and hoping that his own eyes did not appear to be red.  
  
Uncle Vernon rocked on his heels, apparently holding back any biting remarks he would have liked to make and made gestures with his hands for Harry to step inside. "Your Aunt and I would like a word with you, boy. We've been waiting for you in the front room."  
  
Harry looked at his uncle in surprise. The only time he was ever really allowed in the front room was if he was serving the family snacks or if he was asked to fetch something. He wasn't quite sure how to react to this news. "Uh...sure, Uncle Vernon. But I've been outside and the air is kind of dusty. Why don't I go wash my hands first?"  
  
A muscle below his Uncle Vernon's lips twitched. Almost like he had attempted a smile, and fought it. "Yes, well, that's a good idea boy. Don't need your dirt and grime messing up your Aunt's clean furniture. Hurry along and don't keep us waiting." He turned and walked quickly away, leaving Harry starring questioningly after him.  
  
It wasn't that Harry was worried about getting his aunt's furniture dirty. No, he was more worried about the questions he would receive if he walked in the room with a tearstained face. He wanted to run to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, and couldn't think of any other way for his uncle to allow him to do so, without becoming suspicious. He suspected that his uncle was surprised that Harry would make such an offer, since he was aware that Dudley had tracked mud through the room only a few nights earlier. It was times like this that Harry felt that his Uncle Vernon was struggling with something inside him that wanted to shout out that maybe Harry wasn't all bad, after all.  
  
Harry walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light. He looked at himself in the mirror, and was relieved to see that his eyes looked normal. On closer inspection, he could see a few lines in his face where tears had worked their way down and he hastily splashed some cold water on his face and dried it with a towel. He knew that Uncle Vernon would be checking his watch every few seconds so he quickly hung the towel back up, flipped off the light and walked toward the front room.  
  
When he entered the room, he was surprised to see Dudley sitting there as well, a scowl on his face. Aunt Petunia looked up and smiled warmly at him. The smile took Harry by surprise. For the first time, he could see a little bit of his mother looking back at him. He smiled, uncertainly, back at her, which did not go unnoticed by his Uncle Vernon. Vernon cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Petunia, who quickly broke the eye contact with Harry and looked down, nervously, at her hands.  
  
"What's going on?" Harry asked, trying to keep any panic out of his voice. He felt like he should be preparing for an attack, especially with the way Dudley kept scowling at him. He racked his memory, trying to remember if he had done anything that required a 'family meeting', and came up with nothing. Uncle Vernon just grunted at him and gestured for Harry to sit down.  
  
"I've been thinking, that is to say, Petunia and I have come to the realization that today is your 16th birthday." Vernon began. Dudley's scowl darkened and Harry began to squirm uncomfortably in his chair. "Your aunt received a postmarked letter from a 'Professor Dumbledore'." He continued, nearly choking over the words of Harry's headmaster.  
  
Harry's head whipped over to his aunt's direction in alarm, his mouth open to ask a million questions. Dumbledore had written a letter, to his AUNT? What for? What did it say? What did it have to do with him? Vernon put up a hand to ward off any of Harry's questions, and Harry closed his mouth, frustrated. "Yes," Vernon went on, "this professor was quick to inform your aunt and I of your godfather's...er...untimely death."  
  
"In which we are deeply sorry for your loss" Aunt Petunia blurted out.   
  
Harry could feel new tears start to well up in his eyes, but he took a deep breath and looked his uncle in the eye. "Go on."  
  
Vernon seemed a little flustered at his wife's outburst, but went on. "Your professor went on to explain all the trials and misfortunes you had to endure last year, and well...we had no idea. I'm a man that believes that no one, no matter how terrible the person, should have to have all that burden on their shoulders."  
  
Harry looked at his aunt and uncle in awe, sure that he was dreaming. He had a pretty good idea where this conversation was heading, but he was positive, absolutely sure that they weren't possibly going to suggest having a party for Harry.  
  
Vernon cleared his throat. He appeared to be having trouble getting out his next few sentences. "Anyway, Petunia and I, we-, well, we thought that since we are the last of your family, and this is a special day, well, we're allowing you to choose how you'd like to spend the evening." Dudley started having a coughing fit but Vernon ignored him. "Your aunt has a few suggestions."  
  
Petunia looked at Harry and wiped her hands on her dress. "Yes, well, I thought that perhaps I could just cook us all a nice meal and we could adjourn to the family room to watch a movie. You wouldn't even be expected to clean up afterwards."  
  
Dudley interrupted. "I hope you're not expecting me to clean anything!"  
  
"Of course not Duddy-poo, I would see to everything." She turned back to Harry. "Or we could always dine out tonight and watch a movie at a theater. I'm sure there are quite a few new releases out that would catch your eye." She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a letter. "Of course, your professor made a suggestion as well."  
  
Harry's eyes, a little glazed over with everything that he was hearing, cleared a little. He focused on his aunt and waited for her to continue.  
  
Petunia looked at the letter and then back at Harry. "Yes, well, your professor has suggested that we allow you to spend the rest of your summer with your friend-- uh, what was his name?" she glanced back down at the letter, "Ah, yes, a Mr. Ronald Weasley." She again looked at Harry. "I leave the decision entirely up to you."  
  
Harry stared at everyone in disbelief. He couldn't believe his ears. He was being given a choice, something that had never happened before. And for the first time, he was at a loss as to what to do. While he would love to spend his remaining summer days with Ron and his family, he couldn't help but feel that his aunt was trying to make some attempt at finally reconciling their differences, and including him as a family member. Harry quickly went through the pros and cons of all three situations and realized that the best one, for him, would be to accept Dumbledore's offer, and go stay with the Weasley's. But he had a sinking feeling that his aunt would be somewhat disappointed.  
  
Harry opened his mouth and the words came out before he knew what he was saying. "Aunt Petunia, is it possible for us to have a quiet family dinner, tonight, and then I can spend the rest of the summer with Ron and his family tomorrow?"  
  
Dudley burst out of his chair and started complaining. "No way! You can't pick two of the options. Don't think you're all high and mighty just because you're getting your way this time!" He turned to Vernon. "See Dad, I told you that he would let this go to his head! I told you this was a bad idea!"  
  
Vernon nodded his head in agreement. "Quite right Dudley, you're quite right. I shouldn't have doubted you. I--"  
  
"Your request is fine with me, Harry." Aunt Petunia interrupted, softly.  
  
Uncle Vernon paused and looked at his wife. "I'm sorry, what was that dear?" he asked.  
  
Petunia looked at Vernon and replied, "I said, that is fine with me. Harry may have his birthday dinner tonight with the family and we shall send him on his way tomorrow to his friend's house."  
  
"But, but Petunia--" Vernon began.  
  
"I see nothing wrong with his request Vernon. My decision has been made. I don't mind making Harry dinner tonight. And I'm sure that you and Duddy won't mind a Harry-less summer," she looked at him pointedly.  
  
Understanding dawned in Vernon's eyes. "Too right you are Petunia, I didn't look at it that way." He clapped his hands together. "Well, Harry, it's decided. You'll need to send your owl, or whatever it is that you do, to let those PEOPLE know to expect you soon." He turned around and left the room, a sullen-faced Dudley following him.  
  
Harry stood up and turned to leave, thoughts of what he was going to write in his letter to Ron, racing through his head. He paused when he thought he heard a noise and turned, surprised to see his aunt still sitting in her chair. "Did you say something, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes, Harry, I--, that is, there's something that I...well, that I have for you," his aunt stammered. She stood up and walked over to the double cabinet doors, which were always kept locked. She placed her hand in her pocket and took out a small key. She inserted the key into the lock and opened the cabinet door. Harry tried to look over her shoulder, into the cabinets, but his aunt quickly grabbed something out of it, then closed and re-locked the cabinets. Petunia turned around and Harry focused on the package in her hand. It was thin and rectangular and wrapped neatly. He looked at his aunt questioningly as she offered him the gift.  
  
"I....I don't know what to say." Harry stammered. "What is it?" He turned the package over and over in his hand, as though trying to guess what was inside.  
  
To Harry's amazement, his aunt chuckled. "Open it silly boy," she said, with that odd look in her eyes again.  
  
Harry tore off the wrapping paper to reveal the back of a picture frame. He turned the frame over and his breath caught. "You...how did you..." he couldn't finish.  
  
Petunia stepped closer to Harry and gazed down at the picture. It was the picture of his parents and Sirius on his parent's wedding day. The same picture that Harry had in the photo album that Hagrid had given him, unmoving of course. "Lily gave me that picture, and I kept it locked away for the longest time. I thought it was best that you should have it. That man there," she pointed to Sirius, "that was your Godfather?"   
  
Harry nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak.  
  
His aunt smiled. "He was very handsome. I'm sure he was a wonderful man. Lily spoke fondly of him in the letter she sent me with the picture." She gazed down at Harry, who was no longer bothering to stop the tears from streaming down his face. Petunia hesitated. "Harry, I'm not going to say that I understand you or your Wizarding world. Or that I understood Lily. But, she WAS my sister and you are her son. For better, or for worse, we ARE family." She put her hand awkwardly on Harry's shoulder. "I can't say how all of this is going to end, but I'd say that this is as good a time as any for a fresh beginning."  
  
Not knowing what else to do, Harry threw his arms around his aunt, and hugged her. Petunia, startled at first, hesitantly wrapped her arms around Harry too. It was a peculiar sight, mostly because it had never happened before, but also, because, for the first time, Petunia held a REAL smile on her face. 


End file.
